Broken Heart
by faithword1
Summary: England is at his end, so he cast a spell on him self. America find his letter and runs to England, not wanting his lover to be gone. UsUk. THERE IS NO DEATH. I didn't want England to die so there is no death :3
1. Chapter 1

_ Ok, I just watched a VERY sad video on Youtube. It had England killing himself because he blames himself. America killed himself as well. It was just so sad. I suggest you watch it.__** NO CHARATER DEATH IN THIS STORY. **__I was going to cry if I made them die…_

(Youtube) watch?v=-3rQfpzQqqI

_This is a UKUS fanfic, kind of. Enjoy!_

_.-.-.-.-.-._

"_Tell me this is a joke. Tell me that and we can go home, America."_

_There they were. England glared at America, his gun aimed at America's heart, while America aimed at England's heart, his army behind him. England stood alone, his own army dead. America glared at England, not lowering his gun or moving. The army behind him also aimed there gun at England. _

_Why, why was America doing this?!_

_"I can't…"_

_England felt his knees give away under him. He dropped to his knees, shaking as he tried to control his emotions. He didn't even notice America in till America was standing right in front of him, staring down at England with pity. Why did it end up this way?_

England woke up with a start, sitting straight up in his bed. He blinked several times before he realized it was just another sad…sad dream. England closed his eyes. Why did he keep having this same dream over and over? Right… It's around July… When America 'won' his freedom. He had to force himself to move the blankets, and then it took him a few minutes to will himself out of his bed.

He couldn't take it no more! England grabbed the flask from his bedside table, opening and drank it without a second thought. That's all he does now. He drinks…He always drinks. He goes to bars often, alone or with friends. He drinks at home. He drinks at the world meeting. His only true friends knew…The magic creatures…No one saw them. So it was like England was completely alone. Just him and his 'invisible friends'.

But no matter how much he drank, the pain remained in his heart. He truly cared for America…America was his lover, the one he would protect and care for. But, now couldn't live anymore with this damn pain!

He grabbed some paper from his bed side table and a pen, quickly writing a letter. One done he set the pen back and set the paper down.

England forced himself to his feet. Yes, he was going home now. England quickly got dressed and ran out, going to his 'real home'

England's 'real home' was a forest. In this forest is where he met the magical creatures, where he ran to when France picked on him…Where he ran to when America left him. Where he ran to whenever he felt he was at the end.

England took the flask form his pocket and took another gulp of the liquid before dropping it on the ground, the flask now empty. England sighed, walking into the forest without a second thought. As he walked the magical creatures started to show themselves, following England, all looking worried and sad. They knew what was going to happen. They even prepared, knowing England would not change his mind.

England soon reached a small clearing. His eyes seemed hollow as he stared at the coffin. It was made of gold, elegant designs made on it. The designs were leaves, vines, the magical creatures all surrounding the British flag. England smiled weakly and walked towards it. As he walked his clothes changed.

With each step it changes little by little. By the time he reached his coffin his clothes had completely changed from the green suit he always wore. His old uniform… The one he wore when he fought America. He smiled, just slightly. Ah, his friends truly prepared for this well…

The fairies flew overhead, whispering to each other. The green unicorn laid by the coffin, its head sadly rested on the ground. The flying green mint bunny was no longer flying.

England calmly climbed into the coffin and laid down, smiling up at his friends. He knew he wouldn't TRULY die like he wanted. But he'll be asleep for some time now. He let his eyes shut, his breath shaking, becoming shakier and softer, till it stopped. A spell he could never mess up. It sends him into a dead-like state, in till someone came to him and woke him up. But he was deep in the forest, so there was no need to worry.

Only a few people knew about this spot. But he left a letter, saying goodbye. It told them that he was going to his forest to escape everything. England had cried many times while writing it, but he didn't care. Now here he was, surrounded by his 'invisible friends'. All of them looked sad, their eyes down.

They had no clue that England would wake up sooner than they thought he would, as a certain country had broken down England's door (Even if it was unlocked) and walked right in.

"England dude, where are you! You missed today's meeting!" America yelled loudly, even the neighbors could hear America.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ok…Here's Chap 2 of this story… I'm taking suggestions for storys. PM and we'll work out the details._

_I own nothing._

_Here's the story!_

America searched most of England's house. He tried to avoid his bedroom, just because the memories in it hurt his heart. When he was little and scared, he would run in there to England, crying. Then when he got older he went in there to be with his lover…(Basically bedroom=heartache)

America shook the thoughts form his head and sighed. It was the only place left. America slowly pushed opened the door. He saw a messy bed, empty beer bottled scattered across the room, broken glass on the floor... And a letter on his pillow. America carefully walked into the room. Why was the room such a mess and where was England?

America grabbed the letter and quickly opened it, not waiting a second he reads it.

'_Dear…._

_I'm going to my real home. Where I can be alone, where the pain won't hurt my heart anymore. I'm going back to the forest, where I will hopefully stay for some time. Maybe if my country is destroyed while I'm gone I can truly die and escape the pain I feel in my heart. But I know that won't happen, the great Britain empire will never die. It's sad…The countries that fight to become strong and never die, always die…While I want to die, yet I know my country shall never die…But…Maybe if I'm lucky, when I wake up…America would be truly happy, maybe even forget me. Maybe then, I can tell myself there was no chance for 'us' in the first place. That there is no need to hold onto such feelings…After all they're just ripping at my heart. Goodbye._

_-The once great Britain.'_

The whole page was wet till it was barely readable. England must have been crying when he wrote it… America crumbled the paper up and ran out of the room. No way was he going to let this happen! He was the great America, the hero! Most importantly, he won't let England do this... America couldn't explain it just why he won't let England do this…An old nagging feeling was tugging at him.

America ran quickly, he didn't even realize he was in front of the forest when he opened his eyes. How did he get here so quick?

America shook his head. That didn't matter. He quickly ran into the forest without a second thought. He just hoped England hadn't done anything terrible.

America quickly made it to a small clearing. He panted heavily and his heart dropped. At the other end was a coffin. Around it stood 3 England's, and in it another. The three living England's calmly looked at him, though they were frowning.

One of them looked like England when he was a pirate. Another had a black coat, tan pants and a white shirt. He also carried a bow on his back. The last one…Looked like an angel. America took a careful step forward, what was this? Which one was the real England?

The one with the bow on his back suddenly shot at America, just missing him.

"Stay away!" The voice was hard and cold, but it was also soft like wind. The England with the bow stood up and walked to the center of the field, standing right in America's way, a bow in his hand.

"Don't try to come here. I know you. I know everything perfectly well! Traitor, that's what you are! So go away and never return!" Another shot, this one hitting the ground right before America. It was clear these were only warning shots. He didn't want to hurt America yet.

America sighed softly. Why were they stopping him? Well…He knew WHY…But…Why was he looking at him with such a confused expression? Hate yet...there was also _something_. America also noticed how he seemed to sway on his feet, like he was fighting to remain standing. He also noticed he had empty beer bottled attached to his belt, thought it was partly hidden by his cloak. America slowly walked forward and with each step an arrow just missed him.

This England didn't want to hurt him at all…

"Stay away, stay away you…you…!" An arrow flew right by Americas head. He ignored it and kept moving forward.

America finally reached him and smiled, pulling him close. America held onto him, not letting England escape his grasp no matter how much he struggled. He cursed, he hit, he did about everything in till he tired himself out.

"Better now?" America smiled, though he got no response. "Mind explaining why you never even truly shot at me?"

With that, England started to cry with his face buried in the crook of his neck.

The bowman cursed about how much he hated him...how much he wanted him dead…Then how much he SHOULD hate him. How much he missed him…how he was so scared to tell him to truth before.

"I...I remember everything…When I found you…When I raised you…When I fell for you…When…"the bowman quickly cut himself off, clinging to America. America smiled, gently muttering sorry to the man over and over…then, to Americas shock the bowman leaned up, kissed his cheek before he disappeared into nothing.

America smiled then looked up. To his surprise a sword was coming right at his face. America quickly ducked, the sword just missing his cowlick. But America couldn't doge the foot that kicked him right in the gut which sent him cross the field, smashing into a tree. He coughed, griping his stomach. Damn that hurt!

Ok…now THIS guy wanted to hurt him!

America looked up, seeing the Pirate England in the middle of the field, smirking. His eyes were full of hate, his clothes stained with blood. Why hadn't America noticed the blood before? America forced himself to his feet, cursing under his breath as he did so. Fine, if this man wanted to fight, he would! America lunged at the pirate without hesitation.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

America fell to his knees, panting heavily. Above him stood the pirate, chuckling darkly.

"You're no match." His voice was hard, full of hatred. America glared at the man. He was NOT going to be beat.

"Daddy? What's going on?" America could hear his neck snap as he looked to his right. There stood him…Well, as a child. He was hiding behind a tree partly, watching them with wide eyes.

America then remembered. England was a pirate when he was a kid! America looked back up at the pirate, to see him failing to come up with the right words. The pirate put his sword back on his hip and quickly stepped in front of America, as if to try to hide him from the boys' sight.

"America, I told you to stay hidden and not to look…" This time when he spoke his voice was kinder, caring. America quickly took this chance to tackle the man to the ground, easily pinning the smaller man below him. The small America squeaked and quickly covered his eyes, not wanting to see anything.

The pirate glared up at America with pure hate in his eyes.

"I will not hurt him…and I will stop this fight if you stop...Ok?" America leaned close to the man so no one else could hear them. The pirate glared up at America then smirked.

"You're smarter then you look…I respect that…" The pirate kicked America between the legs then easily pushed him off.

"Owowowow, that's fighting dirty!"

"It's for all the time you hurt me in bed, as well for all the others times then." The pirate stood up, smirking. "America, come here." At those words the small child ran from his spot and into the pirate's arms. The pirate smiled and held the child close to him before looking back at America. He then walked over to America, leaning down beside him. America glared at the pirate as he tilted his head up. The pirates gave a soft kiss on the cheek before he and the child disappeared, just like the other England did.

America remained still for a moment before he chuckled, forcing himself to his feet. GAAAH it hurt now. America walked up to the coffin. The England that looked like an angel did not move or stop him. He simple sat there, looking quite beautiful. America had to admit that much.

He remained silent and unmoving, but when America reached out to touch England he grabbed his wrist, shaking his head no. America stared at the angel, frowning.

"I'm not going to leave without him." America glared at the angel, and to his surprise he could see tears in the angel's eyes, so he quickly looked away.

The angel grabbed Americas hand and brought it to England's chest, over his heart before he places that same hand on his head. It took a moment for America to get it. This 'angel' was England's heart. Now America saw just how hurt this 'angel' was. He was covered with scrapes and bruises, large cuts and bullet holes. He looked so hopeless, so lost…just so hurt. It hurt America to just look at the angel. How could his happen to England's heart?

Oh right…

America smiled weakly before pulling the broken angel into his arms. He closed his eyes, being gentle so he won't hurt him any more then he already has.

"I'm sorry…I won't hurt you any more…I want to protect you...I want to be there, I want to see that smile, I want to hear that laughter…I'm sorry I left you, I'm sorry I hurt you…I was stupid, I know. Can you…" America didn't need to finish. The broken angel placed a finger on his lips, smiling.

"What you saw weren't test…We are England…I am his heart…the pirate was England's hatred…But as you saw, no matter how much hate he has, he'll always have a spot for you. The other was England's memories…You have woke England up…" The angel kisses America's cheek before disappearing just like the others.

America quickly turned to the real England, seeing him coughing harshly.

"England!" America quickly picked up the brit, holding him close in his arms. "England I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"America clung to the brit, barring his face in the crook of England's neck, shaking as he tried to control himself.

It took England a moment to realize what was going on…Then he smiled… He knew what happened. He could feel the pain had gone, he was no longer confused...and his heart didn't hurt. England clung to America, smiling as he muttered comforting words.

"America…I'm sorry…"England pressed his lips to Americas, giving a silent promise that he would never hurt America again...While at the same time America promised he would never hurt England again.

_There we are! In the end I did not want England to die, so I went back changed a few things and TA-DA! Hope you liked it!_

_-faithword1_


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